quarta-feira, 7 de março de 2012

Echoes

There she was. She didn’t know for how long. She just couldn’t remember when she finally noticed. None of this mattered anyway. She just wanted to find a way out. She was confused, desperate, sorry… Still there she was, staring at a wall.

Tears, from an open wound she hides, scaring her face. She can’t take any more of this but she can’t let it go. All the things she didn’t say being replayed in her head. She slips off into a dream about a place to hide from her thoughts. It is not that she would have done anything differently. Maybe she just wanted to be different. Maybe things would have taken another path… any other than this was ok. The hardest part of being your own worst enemy is the acknowledgement and the consent…

She has tried everything but nothing seemed to be able to untie those knots. It is easy to complain, but trying to be a good person… - “trying to put yourself in somebody else’s place is halfway from it.” As crazy as it seemed these words echoed from the wall! Whatever she was doing, it was working. She throttled saying that she was sorry and all she wanted was things back as they were, except for herself. She would try to make a home out of her arms and ears. She would drive along the highway with no blind spots. She would be water… After all she said: silence.

The room became as silent as it could be and remained that way for half an hour. It was almost unbearable. She had already cried silent tears and screamed desperate mute screams. She wished it was raining. The silence remained absolute for five more infinite minutes, until it was broken by another echo: “What people do not realize is that one single word, that means absolutely nothing to you, can bleed someone else… one single attitude can taste as bittersweet as a compilation of tragedies… a secret can…” She tried, in amazement, to talk but she couldn’t. Maybe she had finally understood…

“This world asks for so much, despite what you give it's just never enough. Then you're left cold tired and alone searching for something that's already gone. You try not to be afraid bound down by all of these things that they say and you feel like you're all by yourself. Maybe you are even though you don’t feel like it. Fears… they know when you're scared. Wherever you go they seem to meet you there, and you face them all on your own… never the weak always the strong. But this candle's burned at both ends for so long. I’m tired…”

“Why are you telling me this now? After being silent for so long…” – she asked.

“I have been talking the whole time...” – the wall says as he leaves.

4 comentários:

  1. Somethings are not lost just because they have ended. Some writings make my heart speed up. Congrats. I have the feeling I should have read this before.

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